My Poetry. Young and Vulnerable.

Amy was only fourteen
When she decided to run;
Her life was insufferable,
She never had any fun.

Her parents abused her daily,
Mentally she was drained;
She had to break the cycle,
For relationships were strained. 

 She felt she was unloved,
Used as a slave all day;
Her opinions never mattered,
She never had her say.

Badly advised by a friend
To leave and not come back:
To seek a fortune in the world,
Where days would not be black.  

Vulnerable and lonely,
Nothing kept her there;
She packed up what she could,
With barely a tear to spare.

Amy jumped upon a bus,
Not caring where it would go,
Gazing out the window—
Finally ready to grow. 

 Landing in a strange town,
She didn't know a soul;
Walking until her feet ached,
Chasing a distant goal.

She was befriended by a man,
Three times her age or more;
He offered food and shelter,
Then locked the heavy door. 

 Vulnerable and innocent,
Amy took what she could;
He seemed so kind at first,
She thought he did her good.

Then things began to change,
He became possessively weird;
She wanted to escape the room,
For the worst was what she feared. 

 He brought some other men
Into her little space;
She heard them whisper softly,
But never saw a face.

Men as old as her grandfather
Passed money to the guy;
Suddenly she realised
It was her they wanted to buy.

 Amy didn't know what to do,
She had to leave that place;
But there were no windows in the room,
Just walls within the space.

As the man approached her door,
She froze in fear for her life;
She thought she'd escaped the abuse,
But now she faced a knife. 

 She made a dash for the exit
As the man let someone in;
This was her only chance,
The only way to win.

Amy escaped with her life,
Finding a policeman on the way;
Cold, scared, and trembling,
With so much she had to say. 

 Social Services were called,
And Amy was taken into care;
Safe in a new environment,
With no more pain to bear.  

© William Sinclair Manson 2025